


What a Peculiar Boy

by Niccolò Machiavelli (Piccolo_Machiavelli)



Category: 15th Century CE RPF, 16th Century CE RPF, Historical RPF, Machiavelli - Fandom
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 17:48:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9196667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Piccolo_Machiavelli/pseuds/Niccol%C3%B2%20Machiavelli
Summary: Niccolò Machiavelli is a smartass, even from a young age.





	

The sun relentlessly beat down on Firenze, heating up the roads below children’s feet. Most children were outside, reveling in their freedom and dancing in the sunlight, but one child in particular wanted nothing to do with it. Inside his family’s library was where he sat, devouring one book after another and filing papers of parchment with notes. The summer bothered him for reasons he could not explain. It was, to put it lightly, overwhelming. 

“Niccolò, why don’t you go out back and play with your siblings? They’re having the time of their lives romping around, and here you are, stuffing yourself inside the house, reading. It would do you good to get fresh air,” his mother said, swinging open the door to the library loudly. She was never one for quiet entrances when she wanted to get her point across. 

“Do not trouble yourself, Mother. I merely find the air to be… suffocating. It grabs you by the throat and clenches it tightly, see?” he replied, taking his hands off of his book and grabbing his neck in demonstration. Niccolò was an astute boy, much smarter than his siblings, and considerably more proper as well. He always had perfect posture and spoke to all whom he met in a calm, collected manner. Neither Bartolommea, his mother, or Bernardo, his father, would have expected that from a boy of eleven. 

Bartolommea walked over to Niccolò, sat down next to him, and massaged his shoulders. He stiffened slightly in surprise, but he relaxed when he saw it was his mother. “You’re so tense. Why don’t you take a break from all this learning?” She peeked over his shoulder to see what he had been studying so intensely. The books he had in a pile were mythology and law. “These books are quite advanced, you know.” She continued to massage his shoulders.

Niccolò leaned his head back, enjoying being nurtured and babied. “Grazie. It’s nice to relax while I read.” His hand unconsciously shifted over the covers of the books, and he ran his fingers along the spines. This was where he felt most content; inside a room full of books in the house of his loving family. He desired nothing else in that moment.

His siblings burst into the house suddenly, shrieking and laughing about their adventures. “Did you see that boy come across the road to stare at us? He was so cute!” giggled Primavera, nudging her sister.

“Wonder if he likes me,” Margherita purred, following her siblings into the library. “He’s mine. Stay away.”

“His sister was pretty. Pity our Niccolò wasn’t out to see her. A real heartbreaker, isn't he? Mother’s boy is getting special treatment,” scowled Totto. He envied his brother. Totto never cared for books or smarts.

Niccolò backed away from his mother so he could face Totto. “Jealous, are we? Don’t answer; I can hear it dripping from your voice. Perhaps if you picked up a book for once in your life and actually learned something, you would see how important it is to treat your family with respect,” he stated in a firm manner, sitting up straight and clasping his hands together. His two sisters howled with glee when they saw Totto’s face.

“Mi dispiace, il fratello mio,” Totto muttered glumly as he skulked out of the room, defeated.

Niccolò smiled, knowing he had won - as always.


End file.
